


The Wars of the Last Wolves

by damalur



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Future Fic, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-08
Updated: 2013-06-08
Packaged: 2017-12-14 08:53:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/835034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/damalur/pseuds/damalur
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Or: <i>Wish Fulfillment I: First in a Series</i>. Man, if the rest of the Stark kids survive this, they are gonna be screwed up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Wars of the Last Wolves

**Author's Note:**

> Some gross inaccuracies corrected by Odyle. Some titles stolen from the soundtrack of _Rurouni Kenshin_.

Below the Neck they spend the early evenings of the dawning spring telling stories. When the sun sits still on the horizon they talk about the lords and ladies, Ser Florian, the First Men, and the Doom of Old Valyria as they drink their beer and carve their meat. When the crisp snap of the air has given way to evening's chill they talk of the tourneys, of the great water dancers of the Free Cities, of the War of the Five Kings; the warriors amongst them boast or are silent as they will; but to hear the talk, every man over thirty saw Robert Baratheon slay Rhaegar Targaryen at the fork of the Trident. The women nod their heads and roll their eyes, except when they join in with boasts of their own, and children with drowsy eyes ask for their favorite tales. They talk of the great grass sea of the Dothraki and of Asshai, and then they talk of Dorne and Lannisport, Storm's End and Highgarden. 

And only when the fires burn low in the grates and the spring winds blow cold enough to carry a memory of snow do they talk of the North.

There is a Queen in the North, the Queen of the Winter Sunset. Her hair is auburn hair, Tully hair, but behind her eyes is the flint of the Starks, and as they ruled in the North for thousands of years so the Starks rule now. The southron kingdoms have their Targaryen dragons, but the Queen in the North does not kneel.

Below the Neck they say, Stark honor is cold honor. 

They say that Sansa Stark first of her name has a dog who serves as head of her queensguard. The dog is no knight; the Starks keep to the Old Gods, and their men take no vows in the sept. They say the Starks talk with ravens and with the Old Gods. They say the Starks are the Old Gods. They say that the Queen in the North has a sister who can hear the whispers of men across the Jade Sea. They say the Queen has brothers, too, although nobody south of the Neck is quite sure how many. They say a Stark must always guard the Wall lest the Wall crumble; they say a Stark guards the Wall even now, his watch not ended although the breath of winter has receded past the end of the world.

They say one of the Starks—or some of them—or all of them—have ice-blue eyes and pitch-black hands. They say the Starks will slaughter their bannermen and set fire to their lands before they would ever again kneel to another liege. They say the Starks can summon the winter at will and call the Others down on their enemies; they say the Starks would rather see Winterfell in ruins than any colors but grey and white flying from her ramparts. 

They say that the Starks are traitors and berserkers, gods and assassins, witches, cowards, and bastards, but everyone agrees they have their honor, however peculiar. They say that the Starks are merciless on the field, that they refuse hospitality to travelers, that they send man, woman, and child alike to take the black. They say that the Starks carry no horns to battle, that their arrival is heralded only by the howling of their wolves. They say the Starks are wolves. They say that Stark honor is cold honor.


End file.
